


Like You Do

by splot



Series: Assistance Please! [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, First Fight, Post Time-Skip, Secret Relationship, but first - Sadness, reader is Kuroo's assistant and also his girlfriend, they make up at the end i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27007711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/splot/pseuds/splot
Summary: It wasn’t that he was purposefully ignoring your emotions, you know that. He could often be very in tune with them, knowing something is wrong by a twist of your lip or the crease of your brow.But not today.Kuroo’s riding the high of his own good day, and you can’t help feeling a little resentful.----The Reader and Kuroo have their first major fight. Oh boy.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Series: Assistance Please! [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957594
Comments: 16
Kudos: 148





	Like You Do

It’s been a day.

It’s been a long, god-awful day.

It’s not just today that’s been bad, it’s been a particularly bad week, but today really took the cake.

Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong.

Your alarm didn’t go off. You missed your train. Got pressed up on by a gross asshole, and when you shoved him back, he spilled his coffee on you. Kuroo had been in meetings all day, so you hadn’t seen him until you were just about to log out after a day of slogging through emails, and stacks of paperwork, getting yelled at by snobby clients, a sluggish computer requiring no fewer than five restarts before someone from I.T. even considered coming up to look at it, and now?

Even though you’re sitting across from Kuroo while he talks animatedly about his meetings and his plans to meet up with Bokuto on the weekend, you push your food around your plate, and all you want to do is go home, go to bed. Cry into your pillow, maybe.

It wasn’t that he was purposefully ignoring your emotions, you know that. He could often be very in tune with them, knowing something is wrong by a twist of your lip or the crease of your brow.

But not today.

Kuroo’s riding the high of his own good day, and you can’t help feeling a little resentful.

“… -eating?”

Belatedly, you realise that Kuroo’s asking you something, and you gather from the way he’s looking at your full plate in concern that he’s wondering why you’re not eating. “M’not hungry.”

You haven’t even changed out of your coffee-stained shirt, having just worn your sweater all day, despite the humid air, making your mood worse as you’d sweat through the day. You stand, taking your plate over to the kitchen and leaving it by the sink, ignoring the way Kuroo’s eyes track you. “Can you drive me home?”

“What?” He all but jumps out of his seat, rushing over to you, but as he reaches for your shoulders, he hesitates, instead twisting his hands, suddenly looking guarded. “You haven’t been here long. Is… Did I do something?”

“I just want to go home, Tetsurou. I had a long day and I’m tired.”

“You can sleep here. You don’t have to sleep next to me, I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

“I want to be in my bed.”

His face has long since dropped, and your heart pangs at hurting him, but it’s overruled by the absolute fuckery of your day.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, after a moment, and you can tell he’s not going to let you leave until he’s figured out what’s wrong. So you do what you always do when shit gets tough.

You ignore it.

“I’m going to have a shower.” You mutter, moving past him in the direction of the bathroom. He lets you, watching you with a furrowed brow and slumped shoulders, trying to figure out what he could have done wrong.

* * *

By the time you emerge, hair damp, wrapped in Kuroo’s big, fluffy bathrobe, you’ve calmed down a bit, and you’re ready to apologise, but as you enter the bedroom to dress in the t-shirt and shorts you’ve borrowed enough that they’ve become yours, you’re surprised to find Kuroo already curled up in the blankets, his back to you, asleep.

You watch the rise and fall of his shoulders for a moment, guiltily, before dressing and retreating to the living room. You fight against the lump in your throat. You haven’t cried yet today. You’re going to make it through without crying.

You will.

You busy yourself with your laptop while the television plays infomercials at a low volume in the background.

You hadn’t told Kuroo, but you’d started looking for a new job. You’d had an opportunity to present to the head of the Marketing Department for a promotion, and you were fairly sure you’d messed it up, missed your opportunity to move up and _finally_ work alongside Kuroo, without having to worry about your relationship being discovered.

You don’t know how long you sit there, opening listings in new tabs, half-finished applications that you can’t bring yourself to hit send on, but eventually, you become aware of shuffling from the bedroom, and a moment later, Kuroo emerges, squinting sleepily in the light, voice rough and low, hair sticking up in all directions and chest bare as he adjusts the waistband of the striped pajama trousers. “Coming t’bed?”

You make a non-committal noise, returning to the application you’d been working on. “ ‘n a bit. Go back to sleep.”

You don’t mean it to sound so empty, even the tiniest bit harsh, but maybe you’re not as calm as you thought. It seems to startle him fully awake, blinking as he adjusts to the lights, shoulders sitting tense, and he hesitates a moment before making his way over to the couch, not sitting right next to you, like he usually would, but on the opposite side.

Keeping your eyes on your screen, tilting it slightly towards you so he can’t see it, you ask, “what are you doing?”

“M’staying here ‘til you come to bed.” He draws his knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, chin set stubbornly.

“Go to bed, Tetsurou.”

Normally, he’d love hearing you say his name. He never got tired of it. But the dismissive tone fills him with something akin to helplessness. He doesn’t know what he’s done to put that tone in your voice, had spent hours wracking his brain to figure it out. He’d guiltily pretended to be asleep when you came into the bedroom, and when you’d left, he’d turned to Kenma for advice, messaging back and forth in the dark until Kenma had sent a final text message before switching off for the night.

> **Kenma:** _Kuro, I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but if she doesn’t want to talk about it right now, you can’t force it, it’ll just make it worse. The best you can do is just let her know that when she’s ready to talk, you’re there._

Despite being very good advice, it had not assisted, leading to the current predicament. He watches you tap at your keyboard half-heartedly, heaving a long sigh as you rub at your tired eyes. Momentarily forgetting himself, he asks curiously, “what are you doing?”

“Job hunting.” You reply, almost absently, and it’s only when you feel the tension in the air change that you realise you’ve accidentally spilled the secret. In the corner of your vision, you can see Kuroo’s arms tighten around his legs, looking down at the floor before him.

“If I did something, please tell me, so I can fix it. I _want_ to fix it.” He fights to keep his voice even instead of releasing the desperate plea of _just tell me what’s wrong!_ that he can feel rising in his throat.

With a huff, you snap your laptop shut, placing it on the coffee table. “It’s not about you, Tetsurou.”

“Then tell me what it’s about. I’m your boyfriend, I love you, I’m here for you and you know that.” He drops his legs, turning on the couch to face you as you scrub your hands over your face, avoiding his gaze. “You do know that, right?”

“This has nothing to do with that.” You drop your hands to your lap, fingers twisting and fidgeting. You’re so _goddamn_ tired.

“Then what does? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” He knows that this goes against everything that Kenma had advised him of, word for word, but Kuroo can’t handle the thought of trying to sleep tonight without you curled up in his arms. “Something about work? Am I doing something wrong there?”

“Goddamnit, Tetsurou, I didn’t give up my dream of going pro and I didn’t spend five years at University to be an _assistant!”_ Your outburst silences him, echoing through the apartment. You hate that it startled him enough that he’s gone silent, unable to mask the flinch at your raised voice or the crack of his heart that shows on his face at your anger. He just sits in silence, letting you continue, whether he means to or not.

“I had a bad day. Bad week. And I fucked up the presentation, okay? For the promotion, I fucked it up, and I haven’t been working my fucking ass off all this time to be your Assistant for the rest of my life.” It’s unfair to take it out on him, _so unfair_ , but now that you’ve started, you can’t stop, the emotions that had been weighing you down for the past few weeks coming out in a burst of frustration.

“Would it… really be so bad?” He asks, cautiously, face guarded, body tense. You scoff, standing and pacing, needing to do _something_ to get all of the feelings of _upset_ that are shaking your body out.

“ _Yes!_ It would be, Tetsurou, because I will go absolutely insane if I stay an assistant for the rest of my life! This isn’t what I wanted to do, but it was supposed to get me to where I want to be. And what about us, huh?” You whirl on him, and he rises from the couch too, but remains standing by it, arms crossed over his chest.

“What about us?” His voice has risen slightly, too, not quite matching yours, but slightly accusing in tone. “I thought you just said that this has nothing to do with us.”

“Are we supposed to keep tiptoeing around? It’s been a year and a half, Tetsurou. We’ve been sneaking around for a year and a half like we’re doing something wrong. I’m sick of it. Are we supposed to live our whole life like this?” The tears that are welling up in your eyes are borne of frustration, the lump in your throat heavy. “What if we want to get married? Are we supposed to elope and have a secret wedding? Clandestine kids? I can’t even put a photo of you on my phone background because I’m terrified that I’ll lose my job over it, Tetsurou. Not just my job, but my entire reputation. My career – gone! You won’t feel it, because you’re a _man_ and _the boss_ , _banging the secretary,_ every man’s wet dream! I’m the one who will take the fall, not you.”

The tears fall now, your breath hitching as the sobs finally break through, and you swipe an arm across your eyes furiously as he remains silent, face still blank, but his arms have dropped, his stance less defensive. His shoulders are no less tense, back stiff, a red flush working its way up his neck and cheeks, and if your vision weren’t so blurred, you’d notice the glassy sheen of his hazel eyes.

“If I don’t get the promotion, I need to quit, Tetsurou. I don’t want to sneak around anymore, it’s _exhausting_.”

“I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?” Kuroo asks quietly, but before you can respond, he talks over you, voice rising as his own frustration boils over. “I love you, and I’ll do anything for you. Do you want me to move departments? I’ll do it. Want me to quit? Fine, I’ll send off my resignation right fucking now, you can have my position, I don’t care. Before I met you, I might have, but not anymore! I fucking _love_ you, I committed to you, I’ll do goddamn _anything_ you ask of me without hesitation! Part of that is when you’re having a bad day, you can come to me! When you’re having a bad week, I signed up for that, talk to me, don’t, just sit with me and _cry_ , however you want to handle it, I’ll accept that, I’ll help you!”

His chest rises and falls with each heave, and he steps closer. You don’t step back, standing your ground as he continues, the tears welling in his eyes spilling over as his voice cracks. “I hate sneaking around too. You think I don’t? I _fucking_ hate it. I want to be able to say, _that’s my girlfriend, that’s the love of my fucking life._ I wanna hold your hand in public and post stupid photos together, I wanna be able to drive you to work and come home with you. I hate that we have to hide it with _every fibre of my being_. I want to marry you one day, start a family, like you said, and I don’t want to do it in secret either. But I don’t want you to give up your dreams for me, I don’t want you to resent me for it, not when I know you’re so close to getting it! You don’t know that you didn’t get the promotion- ”

“- I do-“

“ _No, you don’t!_ ” Kuroo has never yelled at you before, and you flinch, shocked into silence as he swipes angrily at his eyes, hands fisting in his hair. “You don’t know that you didn’t get the promotion, because they haven’t said anything yet! So I don’t know why you’ve jumped to this conclusion that everything is so utterly helpless and down the drain! You’ve worked _fucking_ hard to get here, and so have I! Why should either of us have to give up what we want? I fucking hate sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong, because it’s not, _nothing about this is wrong_ , but I deal with it, because I want us both to be able to get where we wanna be, and I want us to do it together!”

The sharp sigh he huffs out and the silence that follows is deafening, as he turns his back to you, one hand on his hip, the other covering his eyes as he tries to gain control of his emotions. Your body shakes, the tears still streaming, and his shoulders quiver with each shuddering breath.

“I love you with everything I have, and I’ll do anything for you, anything for us.” He says finally, quietly, voice hoarse, his back still to you. “I’m sorry that you had a bad day, and that I didn’t notice. That’s my fault, I accept that, and I’m going to do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You don’t know how to respond, all the fight sapped out of you, nothing but tears and numbness and _bone-deep_ exhaustion in it’s wake.

You’ve fought before, sure, but about tiny, insignificant things that are forgotten about within the hour.

Nothing like this.

Kuroo takes another deep, hitching breath, swiping at his eyes once more and pushing his hands through his hair before he speaks again.

“I’m going to bed. I’d like it if you joined me. We can talk about this more in the morning. If you don’t want to sleep next to me, then the guest room is set up.”

With that, he stalks off to his bedroom, leaving you crying silently in the glow of the television.

* * *

He can’t sleep.

He’s been tossing and turning, watching the digital clock on the nightstand as minutes tick over. It’s been almost an hour, and you haven’t joined him yet. He’d been hopeful you would, but apparently…

He swallows back the urge to shout into his pillow, if only to release some of the tightness sitting in his chest, right where his heart is. Where your head should be, while you curl around him, tracing aimless shapes on his chest with your fingertip that slow until you fall asleep.

He rolls onto his back and flings his forearm over his eyes to stop the torrent of tears from falling once more.

He doesn’t notice you entering the bedroom until the bed dips beside him. His heart leaps, hopeful, as you move carefully, assuming that he’s asleep, but he feels guilt when you stay on your side of the bed, curled up away from him. Kuroo hadn’t meant to yell at you. It had just slipped out. He had regretted it as soon as he had realised what he had done.

He moves his arm from his eyes, resting it above his head, gripping the pillow tight. Neither of you say anything, though you know the other is awake.

Kuroo almost falls asleep, but a movement and a quiet sound from your side of the bed bring him back to reality in the darkness. The sound comes again. A quiet sniffle. He looks over, just in time to catch your arm moving, wiping your eyes.

And suddenly, he can’t stay away anymore.

His heart is crushed as he crosses the distance of no-man’s land between the two of you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back into his chest with a quiet, _“hey, shh, it’s okay.”_

“No, it’s not.” Your voice is thick with tears, body trembling as he presses a kiss to your hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I just had a bad day and everything came out at once.”

“Hey, easy, easy.” He turns you gently in his arms, and you wrap your arms around his waist as his shift up around your shoulders, one hand stroking soothingly up and down your back, the other cradling the back of your head gently as he swallows the lump in his throat. It wouldn’t help either of you if you were both in tears. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

You both lie there quietly for a moment, becoming reacquainted with the touch of the other, calming by the minute. Kuroo speaks again, voice quiet, a murmur against your hair. “I love you, with all my heart.”

“I love you too.” You say it without hesitation, muffled as it is in the crook of his neck, but you know he hears you, because his arms tighten slightly before relaxing, and he places another kiss to your hair.

“Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk through everything in the morning, but for now… we can just stay like this, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You fall asleep to the sound his strong heartbeat under your ear, in time with yours, as presses soft kisses to your hair and runs his hand up and down your back, slowing until it stops as he drifts off too.

**Author's Note:**

> A real message I sent to my friend: "I let my readers get too comfortable. They got too used to me posting happy fluff and sweet sexy things. I need to remind them that I can smack them with sad at any time. NO-ONE IS SAFE." 
> 
> Aka I had a bad day and I wrote sad to cope with it instead of writing my happy fic to cheer me up.
> 
> I apologise but I also do not because I like Sad Things. I am a Gremlin, please refer to me as such. 
> 
> Title is [Like You Do](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KhaFDyCso5M) by Joji.
> 
> Edit 15/11/2020: I now have a tumblr! find me [here](https://splot-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/)


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